


Writer's Block

by void_dreamers



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: F/M, they're literally the only characters in this drabble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-11
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-30 18:09:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,881
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10882191
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/void_dreamers/pseuds/void_dreamers
Summary: Stiles is struggling to write his book, so he enlists Malia's help to give him inspiration





	Writer's Block

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to all the Stalia fanfiction writers out there  
> Be sure to send me two ships in my Tumblr inbox and I'll tell you which one I prefer :) (My tumblr url is midnigxht)

Stiles is frustrated, to say the least.

He stared at his computer, his nose scrunched and eyebrows creased with his hands clasped in front of his mouth, his fingers resting on his upper lip as he willed for a word, a thought, a sentence to appear in his brain.

A thick wall was planted in his mind, preventing his usual creative downpour of ideas from flowing from his brain onto the page. As if his thoughts were prison that wasn’t meant to escape.

Typical writer’s block.

“Hmm” Stiles let out, along with a sigh that he let out for probably the umpteenth time that day. He stretched, letting out all the creaks that managed to form while he sat there for an hour, and took off his glasses to rub a hand across his face.

For weeks, every day he would get home from work and open his computer planning to write whatever ideas had formed in his head during the day, only to hit a dead end as soon as he opened Word.

And so, he would spend an hour staring at the screen, deleting whatever unsatisfactory words came on to the page and then spend another hour playing video games and surfing through endless memes and texts and whatever he could find on Tumblr. And soon, that writer’s block quickly turned into laziness.

He mentally kicked himself for it. As a writer, he not only wanted others to like his work. He wanted himself to like it. He wanted to make himself proud for coming up with fresh and interesting ideas, for executing good plots and dialogue and making the characters relatable, stand out and make sure the reader connects with them on a personal level aswell.

And that just wasn’t happening today. So he called the one person who could help.

——-

“Penny for your thoughts?”

Stiles lifts his head up from the table to see Malia, arms crossed and an amused expression written all over her face as she sat opposite Stiles.

“Ah, hello. Just the person I wanted to see”

Malia smirked as she set her bag down and shuffled forward so she was leaning her elbows on the coffee table, directly eye level with Stiles. “Let me guess. Writer’s block? Stiles, you’ve been at it for days. Give yourself a break”

Stiles scoffed as he pinched the rim of his glasses in frustration. “Because- ugh- if I stop now, I’ll probably never get it done. I don’t know, maybe I’m waiting for it to pass”

Malia tilted her head slightly to the right as she observed him. He looked good in those thick black framed glasses. It made his eyes stand out. 

“Stiles.” Her tone was firm, enunciating his name so he looked up at her.

“I’ve known you since high school. Even after we drifted apart after college, you were still the same when I met you. And if there’s anything I learned from you, it’s that there’s a certain process that’s different for every writer. And this is not going to go away if you just sit there and do nothing.”

Stiles blinked, his eyes moving from Malia to the closed laptop sitting in front of him as her words sank in. Every story he’s written, it took days for him to finish. But this was the big deal. It was his first ever book and he must have been freaking out inside because he had never let writer’s block stop him from finishing a story. Especially one he could look at and be confident of what he wrote.

He nodded and focused his gaze back on Malia, who raised her eyebrows at him in anticipation. She shrugged and leaned back into her seat, a smile forming on her face as she watches Stiles open and close his mouth.

Maybe it was time to change his surroundings. Anything for inspiration: go for a walk, go to a carnival, go jump in a lake. That last idea wasn’t so bad.

“OK. Let’s go out” Stiles suddenly stood and grabbed his jacket. Malia let out an excited squeal as she walked to the door. 

Holding the door open for him, Malia smiled at him as he spontaneously speed walked. He suddenly stopped, reluctantly waiting at the threshold whilst he mentally tried to convince himself whether to go out. He glanced at Malia who gave him a small, supporting smile.

After taking a deep breath, he shrugged his jacket off as he walked back in, Malia closing the door behind him.

He glanced back and forth to the door as he paced in the middle of the room, his mind heavy with anxious thoughts. Eyeing the space, he swiftly hurried across the room to clean whatever pile he had made. 

Malia waited patiently by the door, leaning her back against it as her eyes followed Stiles’ movements. 

After a half hour of cleaning, Stiles took a deep breath and nodded to himself in a sense of certainty. He shrugged on his jacket and strode to the door, taking his wallet on the way out. 

“Alright, let’s go before I change my mind again” 

—–

The scent of coffee filled the air, mixing the smell of chocolate and cakes. Vintage photographs aligned the walls, standing out against the pine wood panels of the walls

Stiles looked around as he turned the pen around in his hands, observing the people sitting down and drinking coffee. Most of them were reading books, talking in hushed tones or typing, their faces a mask of concentration.

He had to admit: the tranquility and the relaxing symphony of sounds (from the whirring of the coffee grinder and the bubbling of the coffee brewing) did make him more comfortable than the plain walls of his home, the same atmosphere boring into his skull.

A change of scenery was definitely what he needed.

Stiles took a sip from his coffee, the cup warming his hands. After a few minutes, he started to type a few words, a thought bubbling into his head. 

It was a very small thought, one that he wasn’t even sure what it meant but it was something. Something he just had to develop, make it into a fully fledged concept.

At least, something was better than nothing.

He played with the pen, leaning back in his seat as he attempted to come up with something.

“What’s with the pen?” Stiles jumped at the sudden noise, the pen falling into his lap. 

He looked up to see Malia casually taking a sip from her drink, concentrating on the book she was reading as she looked at Stiles from the corner of her eye.

“Oh, uh. I don’t know why but it helps me focus” 

Malia raised her eyebrows but nodded before she concentrated back to her book. Honestly, she wasn’t reading the book at all. Well, she meant to but she got distracted every time she looked at him. 

His tousled brown hair and his brown eyes that you could get lost in, which stood out in those damn glasses. They framed his face quite nicely. 

She bit her lip, her eyes fixed on Stiles as he typed. She loved watching Stiles in his writing zone. When she used to have dinner at his place, sometimes she would stare at him as he worked. 

“You should keep those glasses. You look good with them” 

Stiles looked up at Malia in surprise, his concentration briefly broken. He was not expecting her to tell him that. He let out a small chuff of laughter as he watched Malia read, as if nothing had happened. 

Malia was blunt sometimes, saying whatever was on her mind regardless of whether it was out of the blue or not. Stiles sometimes wished he had the guts to be like that. 

He was more of a socially awkward person and he didn’t go out much. But whenever he did, he made sure it was somewhere fun and he’d have a great time. 

Maybe, if his character was more like that, people would more or less relate to him. 

Unexpectedly, a thought popped into his head. His mind started to wander as he concocted the personality types of each character in his story. 

Stiles quickly typed, the cogs in his brain finally turning as he developed each point he made. 

He felt proud of himself as he kept on typing, transferring his words to the page, his focus entirely on his writing. He tuned out every sound and movement in the background, and he did it all with a small smile growing on his face. 

—–

So far, the pair have been to a coffee shop, a museum tour and a walk in the park.

The museum tour was quite pleasant; the peace and quiet allowed Stiles to really focus. The two walked- arms linked- from painting to painting, stopping to analyse the details and the bigger picture and message it sent. Sometimes, Stiles’ mind sometimes drifted off, notes developing in his mind- ideas such as how each character behaved, how each event would come to pass and how the conflict would be resolved.

Gradually, the walls started to crumble, gradually but resiliently chipping away as Stiles’ mind expanded and explored endless possibilities for his story.

Thankfully, Malia waited for him as whenever he sat down and jotted down such ideas quickly on his notepad that he carried around everywhere.

And maybe it was just him, but once in a while he would catch her gazing at him, her head angled at a small tilt, as if he was a work of art she was admiring. He knew the feeling. He’s been doing that to her all day. 

But what did it mean? Did she like him, in that sense? He didn’t know what was happening- they’ve spent the whole day together and it wasn’t like those other times they did. 

His mind wandered back to what Scott had said about them previously. If you guys hang out with each other so much, why don’t you just get together? 

We didn’t because it wasn’t like that. Maybe to him it wasn’t. But now, he wasn’t sure how he was feeling. But that was for another time. He quickly erased those thoughts, pushing it to the back of his mind to be dealt with another time. 

Nonetheless, they emerged once again as they took a walk in the park, each of them talking about their general plans and thoughts about the world. 

It was a nice day. The leaves in the park were showing the early signs of the autumnal blush and the paths were still wet from the previous night’s flurry of rain. The sky was clear, an unbroken backdrop of warm colours as the sun started to set.

Breathing in the fresh air and feeling it on her face was a tonic for Malia after the oppressive summer heat.

“So, tell me. Any progress in your writing so far?”

She laughed at Stiles’ coy shrug. She bumped her shoulder against his in a playful manner and linked their arms together, his hands in his pockets, glad that Malia was carrying his glasses in her purse. 

“Oh come on. Admit it, these adventures have been giving you inspiration”

Stiles let out a small scoff in doubt. “Adventures? Malia, we’ve just been hanging out like we normally do”

Malia shook Stiles’ arm as they walked further down the path. Small raindrops slowly descended from the wet leaves from above as they passed the trees, the cool breeze brushing the leaves softly brushing them back and forth.

“Stiles” she let out a small chortle. “Where’s your soul?”

“I don’t have one. But I can buy someone else’s for you” he sarcastically joked, earning a tiny laugh from Malia before she turned serious.

“As a writer, you should know that every day is an adventure. Not knowing what you’re going to do in the day, how the day will finish. It’s the small things you have to look out for. It could brighten someone’s day.”

The unhurried pace they were walking in gradually halted, as the two stood at the gate, facing each other. The two held each other’s gaze for a long and unembarrassed moment. 

Stiles looked directly into her chocolate brown eyes, a small smile forming what he found there: excitement, kindness, wonder. It was times like this when he thought that she wasn’t real; he thought she was a character he wrote.

Malia subtly bit her lip, her eyes roaming as at anywhere but him as he stood in front of her, his eyes analysing every inch of her. The amber sun had made its way to the centre of the sky, the warm brightness illuminating Malia’s honey brown hair from behind. 

Stiles loved her hair but it wasn’t the best thing about her; he realized that now. He could drink in her words like a strong wine and enjoy feeling tipsy. He watched her like she had stars around her. 

He reached up and wiped his thumb gently across her cheek, wiping away a small bead of water that fell onto Malia’s cheek. 

Malia blushed and she thanked him, another moment passing between each of them before she abruptly exited the park, only once turning back so Stiles can rejoin her. 

He knew what was happening. A crush was fully manifesting. Stiles hated that word. It wasn’t his forté, but he could write about it better than calling it a crush directly. “Crush” was such an infantile word to use. 

He was falling for Malia Tate. 

——

Now, they were in a nightclub of all places.

Considering he spent a great day full of productive writing, he decided that he needed a break and so Malia led him to Nemeton to celebrate.

Stiles downed another shot to soothe his worries about wasting away money. Money he could have paid towards rent or the water and power bill. Although, he hasn’t spend that much. $7 on coffee, and luckily only $10 for drinks. They were let in for free since Erica owned the place.

And if Erica were here right now, she would tell him to quit worrying and take a drink. This was what he was doing right now.

He made a face as he downed a shot again, the burn of the alcohol travelling down his throat. He jumped, flailing his arms as Malia leaped behind him, her hands gripping his shoulders before she slid into the space next to him.

“Hey”

“Hey!” he shouted back atop the pounding music, the club lights pulsing around them.

“Do you want to dance?”

Stiles straightened up and shook his head. “Malia, you know I can’t dance. And besides, dancers are the only ones who are proud of themselves when they kick themselves in the head”

Malia slapped the back of his head. “You’re dancing with me. Now” Malia grabbed his hand, and led him to the dance floor, leaving their drinks abandoned at the counter.

The two slid in between the people, stopping once there was a clear space for them. Surprisingly, the dance floor was quite big so there was enough space for them.

Malia turned to him and started to sway her hips in time to the beat. Stiles stood there for a second, unsure of what to do, before he took a step closer to her. She took his hands and guided them to his waist, helping him sway to the beat aswell.

The two swayed together, the slide of each other’s bodies in time with the pulsing music. Pretty soon, it felt like it was just the two of them moving amongst the lively crowd. It was one moment, one feeling of togetherness suspended in time.

Malia could feel his hot breath on her face, their faces at such close proximity that it only took her a small gap to lean in and kiss him. The two stared into each other’s eyes, the crazy lights flashing colours on their faces before the dark blue lights of the club took over.

Malia closed her eyes and bit her lip and Stiles leaned closer, her eyes never leaving her. He was just about to take that step and kiss her before she took a step back and let out a breath.

He frowned slightly and was just about to ask her if she was OK before she opened her eyes and smiled at him, as if nothing had happened.

“I’m gonna get a drink” Malia told him before she walked past him. Stiles followed her movements, his mouth slightly open. 

—–

The knock came quietly first and then there was silence. Malia turned her head to the door, frowning. And another knock came, louder and more confident. 

Malia got up and opened the door, furrowing the brows at the empty space that welcomed her. She looked left and right down the hall and was about to close the door until something caught her eye. 

A book was on the floor, its dark blue cover contrasting with the muddy floor. 

Malia smiled and picked it up, admiring the cover and the new book smell. She carefully held it in her hand and closed the door, getting comfortable as she opened it and read.

**Author's Note:**

> Ironically this drabble came to me when I was thinking of writer's block


End file.
